Genie In A Bottle
by Danja
Summary: Set after 'Sins Of The Mother'. Sequel to my previous story, 'The Factory'. I recommend reading that one before reading this one. The Factory comes back for Dinah. RR
1. Chapter 1

Author: Danja

Disclaimer: Birds of Prey, its characters, and concepts are the property of Warner Brothers, Tollin-Robbins Productions & DC Comics.

Author's Note: This is intended as a sequel to my previous story, "The Factory" (I recommend reading that story before reading this one). In the event you're wondering about the significance of the title, I intended it as a metaphor for power contained … and unleashed.

****

Genie In A Bottle

**Chapter One**

* * *

_What could they want with me? _thought Dinah as she opened the door to the main office. It was 1:45 p.m. and she had just been called out of 6th period American History. It was a cold bright November day and she was wearing a denim jacket and blue jeans.

She walked over to the reception counter. A gray-haired secretary wearing a black knitted shawl and silver horned-rimmed glasses on a chain was sitting at a desk located behind the counter.

"Excuse me," said Dinah to the secretary.

The secretary glanced over in Dinah's direction.

"May I help you?" she replied.

"I'm Dinah Redmond," said Dinah. "I was called down here to see the principal."

"Go right in, please," said the secretary. "He's expecting you."

Dinah walked straight ahead; the principal's office was the third door on the left. Finding it open, she walked inside. Standing before her were two men in matching black two-piece suits, white shirts, black ties, black wingtip shoes, and dark wraparound sunglasses. The man on the right was bald, muscular, and stood about six-foot-four. The man on the left was shorter -- about six-foot -- lean yet athletic-looking, and wore his (red) hair in a crew cut.

Dinah glanced over to her right. Donald Martin, the principal of New Gotham City High School -- a stout man in his middle-forties with receding dark-brown hair -- sat slumped back in his chair; his arms dangled limply by his side. His mouth gaped open; his head was draped over the back of the chair. A tiny stream of saliva ran down his chin. His dark blue eyes stared off into space.

"Mr. Martin?" said Dinah, trying to grab his attention.

"He's fine," said the bald man on the right. Directing his attention to the catatonic Mr. Martin, he said with a smirk, "Aren't you, Mr. Martin?"

"Everything's … fine," slurred Principal Martin thickly. While Dinah's attention was focused on Mr. Martin, the man on the left produced a cigar-sized silver cylinder from a pocket inside his jacket; the tip of the cylinder was encased in a smoky crystal dome.

_I've got a baad feeling about this, _thought Dinah. She then turned her attention back to the two men in black standing across from her.

"Who are you?" she said. "What do you want from me?"

The bald man produced a FBI badge and ID in a black leather wallet. "Agent Sloane … FBI." He then gestured to the man on the left. "This is Agent Riggs."

_Where have I heard THAT one before_? thought Dinah wryly. "I don't believe you," she said. "Prove it."

With one quick gesture, the red-haired agent raised the silver cylinder to Dinah's eye level and pushed a hidden switch. The last thing Dinah saw was a flash of blinding white light.

* * *

"She _WHAT_?!" said Barbara, aghast.

"She left here with two FBI agents", said the secretary. As soon as the men in black had left, she had notified Barbara -- Dinah's emergency contact -- about the matter. "She was led away in handcuffs."

_God, this kid's popular with the Feds_, thought Barbara. "Why wasn't I notified while they were here?"

"At first, they wanted to speak with Mr. Martin. Mr. Martin then told me to bring Dinah down to the office. Dinah went in … next thing I know, she was being led away in handcuffs!"

"What did these two men look like?"

"That's the weirdest thing," said the secretary. "They were both dressed in matching two-piece black suits, white shirts, black ties, and dark sunglasses. I never knew the FBI had a uniform."

_Oh, no … _thought Barbara. _They're getting serious this time. _"Thank you for telling me this, Ms. … "

"Ingle", said the secretary with a smile. "Rhymes with jingle."

"Ms. … Ingle" said Barbara with a weak smile.

* * *

It was 3:00 p.m.

"Hello?" said a barely awake Helena as she grabbed the phone by her bed.

"Huntress? It's Oracle", said Barbara on the other end of the line.

"What's wrong?" Helena mumbled. "I'm not normally Huntress before 10 p.m."

"We have a situation here … Dinah's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Helena exclaimed. She was now fully awake. "By _who?_"

"I'm guessing The Factory."

" 'The Factory?' " Helena asked. "The government nutjobs who took her three years ago? _THAT_ Factory?"

"The very same," said Barbara. "What's more, it gets better … apparently, they've got Men In Black doing their dirty work for them."

"Men In Black?" Helena exclaimed. "You mean like in the movie?"

"We're not dealing with Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones here," said Barbara. "_These_ Men In Black are very real, very dangerous, and anything BUT a laughing matter."

"I see…"

"Once again, they posed as FBI agents." _Where DO these people get their badges and IDs? _Barbara thought. _I swear, someone's giving them out like candy at Halloween._ "I called the FBI's New Gotham City office. They have no record of Dinah being taken into custody. No search warrants, no arrest warrants, no bookings … nothing. Nada. Zip."

"So they're fakes…"

"Pretty much."

"So … how do we find her?" Helena asked. "She could be anywhere by now."

"Excellent question," Barbara replied.

"Good … work on it," said Helena. "Meanwhile, I'm going back to sleep…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Dinah awakened; she was lying on a foam rubber mattress covered in a white linen sheet. As she looked around the gray-colored walls, a sudden rush of familiarity came over her.

_OmiGod,_ she thought. _I'm back in The Factory! But why? I thought I was through as a remote viewer. _She searched her mind for any memory of the past few hours; hazy, dimly-remembered memories of being led out of the main office at school in handcuffs, having a black pillowcase put on her head, being shoved into a car, and driving for a long time came to mind.

_Damn, these guys are good … I can barely remember anything. What did they do to me back there?_ _How long have I been here? How long have I been out?_

A wave of panic and terror suddenly washed over Dinah. _No … no. Please, God … not THIS again!_

All at once, Dinah sat up on the mattress and checked herself. _Snap out of it, _she thought. She took a few deep breaths, regaining her composure. _Remember your training. _As if to remind herself of whom she was now, she threw a karate punch at the air. _Focus … keep your wits about you. You're no longer the frightened little girl The Factory picked up three years ago. _Dinah's face broke out in a wicked grin … _And when the time is right, you're gonna let em know it!_

* * *

An hour later, Dinah was standing in the Director's office; she was handcuffed behind her back. A pair of Men In Black -- matching suits, sunglasses, and all -- stood behind her. The Director -- a stocky bald man in his late-forties with a double chin -- sat behind his desk in front of her, his back to the windows behind him. The Director was dressed in the standard-issue Men In Black uniform of black two-piece suit, black wingtip shoes, white shirt, and black tie.

"Welcome home, Dinah", he said.

"I thought I was through as a remote viewer", said Dinah.

"How did you know we wanted a remote viewer?"

"Wasn't that the whole point of my being here the last time?"

"Actually, this is your first time at this particular facility", said The Director. "Before, you were at our District Four center."

_They must have several facilities around the country, _Dinah noted silently to herself. _Gather intelligence. Keep him talking … and report back to Oracle._

"We've been watching you for some time, Dinah", The Director continued. "You're very powerful … I hope you realize that."

"How did you find me?" said Dinah.

"Oh … we have our methods", said The Director with a Cheshire-cat grin. "I'd hate to see such potential go to waste."

"What part of 'Leave me alone' do you not understand?" Dinah shot back.

The Director grinned and let out a snort. "It seems we've developed an attitude since we were here last", he said.

"I was thirteen. Back then, I was a frightened little girl."

"And now?"

"I'm older … a different person."

"We'll see about that", said The Director with a smirk. He then said to the to Men In Black who were standing behind her, "Take her away."

* * *

Back at the Clocktower, Barbara combed through every database and computer network she could access, trying to gather information about The Factory and where it operated.

_Must be a black project, _she thought. _Above Top Secret. After all the torture they put Dinah through the last time, I'd probably hide too._

"Any luck finding the kid?" said a voice -- Helena's -- behind her.

"No", said Barbara mournfully as she turned around to face her. "This must a black program. Above Top Secret. I can't find anything on The Factory."

"What's a 'black program?' "

"A program funded by a black budget", Barbara replied, seemingly stating the obvious.

"Okaaaaaaay", said Helena. "This brings me to my_ next_ question…"

"What's a black budget?" said Barbara with a smile, completing Helena's thought. "It's a budget whose details are hidden from Congress … and by extension, the taxpayer.

"What happens is that Congress is presented with a bill seeking X amount of funding for Project X…period," Barbara explained. "Nobody knows what Project X is supposed to do, what purpose it's supposed to serve, or how the money is to be spent. Congress is forced to take a leap of faith and hope that the taxpayer's money isn't going to be wasted on gold-plated bathroom fixtures and junkets to Bermuda by the project's senior staff."

"I worked on a couple of them when I worked at the defense contractor," said Barbara. "Basically, it's called a 'black budget' because Congress and the taxpayers are kept … in the dark … about the details."

"OK. I see now", said Helena as she turned to leave. "I'll let you get back to work. I'm here if you need me." As she left the room, Barbara turned around and went back to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

After spending all night probing every last network and database she could access, Barbara had collapsed from exhaustion at her PC. She lay asleep at her computer in the Com center, her head resting on the keyboard and cradled in her arms.

Alfred Pennyworth -- the butler -- was standing just behind her, gently shaking her shoulder in an attempt to rouse her.

"Miss Barbara … Miss Barbara…" said Alfred in his trademark British accent.

Barbara suddenly awoke with a start. Glancing around the room, her eyes met Alfred's.

"Alfred", she said in a low whisper as she took off her glasses and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. On the desk and to the left of her console lay a breakfast tray; a bagel on a saucer and a glass of orange juice rested upon the tray. "What time is it?" she asked.

"6 a.m., if I'm not mistaken."

"Thank you, Alfred…" she said softly. "… But I'm really not hungry right now."

"If you will permit me to be forward, Miss Barbara", said Alfred. "You really _should_ eat something. Our missing Miss Dinah is depending upon you. You need to keep up your strength."

"You have a point", she said. She took a sip of orange juice. "What would I ever do without you?" she said with a smile.

"I shudder to think, Madam", replied Alfred with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

Dinah was seated at a small folding table in one of The Factory's experimental rooms; all of the rooms in the Factory were alike -- gray colored walls, white linoleum tile floors, and fluorescent ceiling lights. She was becoming bored. For hours, she had been engaged in experiments that were designed to test whatever powers she may have possessed: telepathy (she was told to read the mind of someone who was sitting in another room; she, in turn, told the technicians that she could not do that unless she touched them first), telekinesis (she succeeded in making what appeared to be a Ping-Pong ball levitate inside of a Plexiglas cylinder), clairvoyance (a dismal failure -- the visions of Barbara and Helena from seven years ago notwithstanding -- she was told to describe what was happening in a room that was located 3,000 miles away from where she was), and precognition (a technician showed her a series of experimental ESP cards, each inscribed with a geometric design -- circle, star, square, triangle, etc. -- and told her to predict which card would be drawn next from the deck).

During what seemed to be the umpteenth round of clairvoyance trials, Dinah overheard two technicians in orange jumpsuits chatting away behind her.

"I'm dreading tomorrow", said the first -- a tall, lanky man with curly red hair. "Tomorrow, she gets to kill the lab rats. The mess … the smell. Ugh, I hate that!"

"Sure we oughta be talkin' bout this in front of the kid?" said the second -- a short, stocky man with receding brown hair.

"Why not? Not like she's goin' anywhere."

"Um, excuse me…" Dinah cut in. "I couldn't help but overhear. What's this about me killing rats?"

"It's part of your training…" said the red-haired technician.

"Training to do what … be an exterminator?" said Dinah, in an attempt at levity.

"It's classified."

_I don't like the sound of this, _thought Dinah. _I'm no great lover of rats … at the same time, I'm not into senseless killing. _"Um, may I ask what I'm supposed to kill them with?"

"Waddya think…" snapped the red-haired technician in reply. "…With your mind." He said as he tapped his forehead with his index finger.

_That's it, _thought Dinah. _I'm outta here. _It was at this point that Dinah decided to make her move. _Now or never, _she thought.

"Um, guys?" she said to the two technicians. "We've been at this for hours. I could really use a break."

"No breaks", said the red-haired technician. "We're on a tight schedule. No time."

"I don't think you understand," said Dinah. "My … powers … drain me", she lied. "If I don't rest, I can't function."

The two technicians looked at each other. After a long silence, the red-haired technician said, "Half-hour".

"Thanks" said Dinah in reply. She got up from the table, walked out the door, and left the room.

"Sure we oughta' let her go out like that?" said the short, stocky technician.

"Why not?" said the red-haired technician. "She ain' goin' nowhere."

* * *

Dinah took note of her surroundings. There was a pair of steel doors located at opposite ends of the hallway. She cut right and made a beeline for the doors located at that end; she turned the knob -- locked. She used her telekinesis ability to unlock the door; she turned the knob, opened the door, and gingerly shut it behind her.

_YESSSSSSS!_ She thought triumphantly to herself.

Dinah turned to her left and took a walk around the grounds. Once more, she made mental notes of her surroundings. The Factory was housed in a small, squat, windowless, brown-colored building that was approximately two stories high. The time appeared to be late morning; the air was sunny, crisp, and cold (her jacket and jeans felt good). Wispy clouds dotted the sky. The Factory itself appeared to be located in a wooded area far away from New Gotham City; there wasn't a skyscraper in sight for miles around. A low wooden split-rail fence that seemed to be more for decoration than for containment surrounded it. A wooden guardhouse and a barrier arm interrupted the fence; the barrier arm blocked an access road leading into the complex.

Just inside the fence lay a small parking lot with about 10 personal cars of various makes and models parked inside. A more ominous group of 5 black-colored late model Chevrolet Monte Carlos sat parked nearby.

As she took note of her surroundings, an idea -- an escape plan -- began to form in her mind.

A commanding masculine voice then knocked Dinah out of her reverie. "HALT!"

Dinah turned towards the sound. Standing directly before her was a security guard covered head-to-toe in a navy-blue uniform -- jumpsuit, baseball cap, and bulletproof vest. He wore on a black patent-leather utility belt draped around his waist a holstered jet-black .45, pouches, a set of keys, a walkie-talkie, and a cell phone. He was tall, athletic looking, and had closely cropped dark hair.

"What are you doing out here?" barked the guard.

"Taking a walk", said Dinah in reply.

"You're not supposed to be outside of the building."

"Gimme a break", said Dinah as she surreptitiously inched closer to him. "I haven't seen daylight once since I got here!"

"Get back in the building now!" the guard barked with the Voice of Authority. "Get back inside the building now or I will forcibly remove you to the inside of the building!"

"Make me…" Dinah challenged. "I'm not going back in."

The guard charged towards her. When he was within striking distance, Dinah delivered a roundhouse kick to his jaw, stunning him. She then delivered a second kick to the groin and a third to his knee, sending him to the ground.

_Guess they're not used to having the lab rats bite back_, Dinah thought in satisfaction. She quickly frisked the guard, taking his wallet from his back pocket (_cash … always a good thing, _she thought_)_ and the cell phone from his utility belt (_I can use this to contact Barbara)_. She took one last look at the guard -- who was now doubled over in pain, screaming in agony, and grabbing his crotch -- and bolted towards the parking lot.

Dinah grabbed the door handle of the first car that was handy -- a silver late model Toyota Corolla. Finding it locked, she used her telekinetic powers to unlock the door. That done, she got behind the wheel, shut the door, used her powers again to turn the ignition and start the car, and -- accompanied by the sound of squealing tires -- backed up, tore out of the parking lot as fast as a Toyota engine would take her, barreled down the access road, smashed the barrier arm to splinters, made a hard right onto the street, and headed for the open road.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

It was 11:47 a.m.

Barbara was sitting at her computer in the Clocktower Com Center, searching all of the files, databases, and assorted networks at her disposal and worked every federal contact she knew from her days working at a defense contractor for any trace of this shadowy organization known as The Factory.

_Dinah … Dinah … Dinah, talk to me, _Barbara bid silently in her mind. _Dinah, where are you?!_

A voice -- Helena's -- intruded upon her thoughts. "What are you doing home?"

"I called in sick", Barbara replied.

"Why?"

Barbara turned around to face Helena. "Dinah is out there … _SOMEWHERE_", she said. "Alone … against The Factory … against the Men In Black. I'm not going to abandon her … not when she needs us most."

"Alfred told me you knocked yourself out last night looking for her. You've done everything you can … and then some. For all we know, she could be drugged … or dead."

"They're not going to drug her … at least not to the point of uselessness. They won't kill her, either … she's too valuable to them alive."

"What else can you do?"

"Wait for her to contact us," said Barbara.

"You sure about this?"

"Helena, you know I'm not meta-human by any stretch of the imagination", said Barbara. "I don't know how I know. I just … _know._" Barbara paused. "I know _HER, _for want of a better term to describe it.

"She's not the same person she was three years ago," said Barbara. "She's learned a lot since then … including everything _WE'VE_ taught her."

"You mean…" said Helena as she threw a karate punch at the air. Barbara nodded solemnly in reply.

"Ooh, boy…" said Helena with a laugh. "They don't know who they're dealing with! They won't know what hit em!"

* * *

After driving for what seemed like hours, Dinah came upon a city -- Yonkers.

_Gotta hide_, she thought. _Gotta disappear. _She pulled over to a gas station and -- using the money from the wallet she had lifted from the guard -- bought a map of the city.

_Where can I hide? Where's someplace safe? At least, where can I hide long enough to contact Barbara and Helena? _She gave the idea a lot of thought. _They wouldn't dare take me in a crowd. Where can I find a crowd? _She smiled to herself as the answer hit her -- _a mall._

After getting directions from the clerk at the gas station to the nearest major shopping mall, Dinah kept driving. _Strange, _she thought. _The Factory hasn't sent anyone after me._ _I would think they'd be in hot pursuit right now._

* * *

"The bitch stole my car!" a technician named Jorgensen -- the owner of the stolen silver Toyota -- whined to The Director. He and a security guard named McClellan -- specifically, the one that Dinah had beaten to a pulp outside the building -- were standing in The Director's office. McClellan was rubbing his groin (it had yet to fully recover from Dinah's withering assault).

"We're taking care of it, Mr. Jorgensen," said The Director.

"Can't we just call the police?"

"No, we are _NOT_ going to call the police!" The Director replied angrily. "Call the police … and she'll lead them back to this facility … and _US_. That, Mr. Jorgensen, is _not_ an option." The Director paused. "Besides, it's not necessary."

"How so?" said Jorgensen.

"The cell phone that Ms. Redmond lifted from Mr. McClellan contains a tracking beacon. Operations is tracking her movements as we speak. What's more, we are readying an acquisition unit to pick her up within the hour."

"I'm beginning to wonder if she's even worth the trouble", said McClellan as he massaged his still-aching groin. "I'm _STILL_ hearing bells ring."

"Trust me, Mr. McClellan … she's worth the trouble", said The Director.

* * *

Dinah stood in the middle of Whitfield Square Mall -- a cavernous building on the south side of Yonkers. All the while, the hidden tracking beacon inside the cell phone kept surreptitiously transmitting her location. Dinah flipped open the phone and dialed the number for Headquarters.

_Please let there be someone home, _she prayed silently to herself.

* * *

"You're obsessed", said Helena to Barbara.

"I'm not going to abandon her", Barbara replied. As if on cue, the phone rang. Helena and Barbara turned and stared at each other in bewilderment.

_This can't be happening, _Helena thought. Barbara tapped a couple of keys on her PC and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Barbara?" asked Dinah on the other end of the line.

"Dinah!" said Barbara, the worry rising in her voice. "Dinah, where are you? We've been looking all over for you!"

"I don't know. The Factory got me. I got out … but I don't know where I am", said Dinah. "I'm on a cell phone. I'm in a shopping mall someplace."

"Hold on … I'm gonna locate the cell." With that, Barbara made a few more keystrokes. A computer-generated road map of Yonkers appeared on her computer monitor. A glowing red crosshairs highlighted Dinah's location. "Dinah, you're in Yonkers."

"_YONKERS?_" interjected Helena. "That's little more than fifteen minutes from here!" She then turned to leave. "I'm gonna suit up and head out," she said to Barbara. "Gimme the directions downstairs."

Barbara nodded and waved Helena off as she left to change. "Dinah, I want you to hold your position," said Barbara. "I've got Huntress on her way out." A glowing blue indicator on the screen suddenly caught Barbara's attention. With the click of a mouse, she expanded the message. "I'm detecting the presence of an unknown secondary signal coming from your position."

"Umm … what's that in English?" inquired Dinah on the other end of the line.

"Dinah, the phone is bugged."

"Oh, God!" exclaimed Dinah in horror. _This explains why no one has been following me, _she thought. _They're probably right on my ass!_

"Listen to me … don't panic," said Barbara. "In all likelihood, you're being followed. Worst comes to worst, I can track the signal all the way back to The Factory."

Barbara heard Dinah breathe a sigh of relief over the phone. Helena -- now in her guise as The Huntress -- waved to Barbara as she picked up the keys to the van. Barbara waved her off as she sprinted towards the elevator. "Dinah, I've got Huntress on her way", she said.

* * *

An ominous-looking black panel truck -- followed by a chauffeur-driven black Chevrolet Monte Carlo carrying The Director -- were slowly threading their way through the Yonkers city streets towards Dinah's position at the mall. Inside the panel truck was a specially trained eight-man SWAT team from The Factory; each man was covered head-to-toe in black -- body armor, helmets, gloves, hoods, boots, jumpsuits, etc. Each man was also armed with an MP5 submachine gun.

* * *

"I've gotta go", said Dinah. "I don't know how much more power this thing has."

"Dinah … Dinah, listen to me", said Barbara. "Don't hang up." She made a few keystrokes on her PC. "I've got an ETA of four minutes on Huntress." She made a few more keystrokes and pulled up a computer-generated map of the mall interior; Dinah's position was indicated by a set of glowing red crosshairs. "I want you to stay out of the stores and keep to the main hallway. We don't need you being boxed in."

"Understood", said Dinah, struggling to contain the terror that was rising in her voice.

* * *

The black panel truck and the Monte Carlo turned into the mall parking lot and came to a stop in front of Ridgely's Department Store; the rear door of the panel truck slid upwards and armed black stormtroopers came pouring out. A lone shout of "GO! GO! GO!" could be heard in the air. The Director and his aide/chauffeur -- each dressed in the standard-issue Men In Black uniform of black two-piece business suit, white shirt, black tie, black wingtip shoes, and dark sunglasses -- jogged along right behind them.

* * *

Dinah shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. _Huntress, where are you? _she thought.

A masculine voice came from Dinah's right. "THERE SHE IS! GET HER!"

Dinah glanced to her right -- the SWAT team from The Factory was charging towards her, leaving a trail of overturned mannequins and jostled shoppers in its wake.

"Dinah to Oracle, I've been spotted!" she said into the cell phone. Following that, she took off and ran down the mall.

"DAMN!" cursed Barbara. _Huntress, where ARE you?_ she thought.

"Huntress to Oracle, I've breached the perimeter", said Huntress over the comm link, interrupting Barbara's thoughts.

_Thank God, _Barbara thought. She clicked her mouse and zoomed out. The computer-generated image on her monitor now encompassed both the mall and the parking lot. Huntress' position was indicated by a red glowing dot near the bottom of the screen just below the west side of the mall; Dinah's position was now that of a red glowing dot traveling from left to right through the computer-generated map of the mall.

"Huntress, I want you to go straight ahead and insert from the west side of the mall -- don't worry about parking", said Barbara over the comm link. "Dinah's going to be coming your way."

"Roger", said Huntress over the link.

"Watch out … she's got bad guys behind her."

* * *

Dinah sprinted through the mall with the SWAT team in tow, shoving aside and knocking over shoppers as she went by. She screamed into the cell phone, "FOOT PURSUIT! FOOT PURSUIT!" The black-clad SWAT team was right on her tail screaming battle cries, waving MP5s, and hurdling over the bodies of fallen shoppers.

As she reached the west end of the mall, she tripped. _Great, _she thought bitterly. She looked behind her -- the SWAT team was approaching thick and fast. _I can't run forever_, she thought. _Might as well end it here. _Two SWAT team members loomed over her. Dinah looked up just in time to see a black streak connect with the jaws of the two SWAT team members, sending them spinning. Following the streak downwards, Dinah found herself staring into the blue eyes and black leather outfit of The Huntress.

"Huntress!" exclaimed Dinah excitedly.

"Looks like I'm just in time for the party", said Huntress with a wicked grin.

Dinah sprung to a standing position. Huntress walked over and stood next to Dinah. The SWAT team had the two surrounded. Huntress and Dinah suddenly found themselves staring down the barrels of six loaded MP5s. The two men that The Huntress had cold-cocked shakily rose to their feet and took their places with the rest of the team. The bald Director -- who had been jogging right behind the unit all the while -- appeared from out of the back and came forward.

"Who's Chrome Dome?" whispered Huntress into Dinah's ear.

"The Director", whispered Dinah in reply.

"Does he have a name?"

"If he does, no one's told me", Dinah replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Huntress, report", said Barbara in Huntress's ear. "What's your situation?"

"Dinah's OK", Huntress replied. "Looks like The Factory sent a SWAT team … we're staring down the barrels of about eight MP5 sub-machine guns."

"Who you talking to?" The Director asked Huntress.

"God", Huntress shot back. "I'm talking to God. Shut up." _God, I hate it when people eavesdrop, _she thought.

"God…" said Barbara in Huntress's ear. "That _DOES_ have a nice ring to it."

"Don't get any ideas", growled Huntress.

The Director turned his attention to Dinah. "Hello, Dinah," he said.

"Hello, yourself," snapped Dinah in reply.

"I'm here to take you home."

"I _HAVE_ a home…" Dinah countered. "…And it's _NOT_ at The Factory."

The Director reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver cylinder -- the same type of silver cylinder with the smoky crystal tip Dinah saw in Principal Martin's office -- and held it in front of him.

_Oh no, you don't, _thought Dinah. With one swift motion, she grabbed The Director's wrist, kicked him in the groin, and snatched the cylinder out of his hand. The Director then dropped to his knees, grabbed his crotch, and screamed in agony.

"What's going on?" said Barbara in Huntress's ear.

"I think Dinah's just disarmed the Bad-Guy-In-Charge", said Huntress. She then whispered into Dinah's ear, "What _is_ that thing?"

"You don't wanna know," Dinah replied quietly.

The Director was now on his knees and massaging his sore crotch. "Who died and made you Xena: Warrior Princess?" he snapped at Dinah.

"I told you", Dinah replied. "I'm not the scared little girl you picked up three years ago." She put the cylinder in the pocket of her jacket and stared at The Director. "How much am I worth to you?" she continued. "Am I worth all the trouble?"

"In case you haven't noticed by now…" said Dinah as she clapped a hand on Huntress's shoulder. "…I'm not alone. You won't just be dealing with _me_ anymore."

The Director rose to a standing position. He, Huntress, and Dinah each stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, The Director turned towards the SWAT team.

"All units abort … mission is scrubbed", he said to the team. The team turned and left. The Director then turned back to Dinah.

"Until next time, Miss Redmond," he said. He then turned around -- still feeling his sore crotch -- and left with the SWAT team.

"Director?" said Dinah. The Director turned back around to face Dinah.

"Here's your cell phone back", said Dinah, tossing him the cell phone. The Director -- still reeling from her assault on his groin -- caught the phone, silently turned back around, and left with the SWAT team.

"What say we get out of here, huh?" said Huntress to Dinah after the team had left.

"Great plan", said Dinah with a smile.

"Huntress to Oracle … Mission accomplished. Code-4", said Huntress into her transceiver earrings. _No further assistance needed._

"Roger, Huntress", said Barbara on the other end of the line. "Both of you, extract and return to base." Huntress and Dinah turned and left the mall. _This is gonna to be one HELLUVA debriefing, _thought Huntress.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

It had been a long -- and interesting -- debriefing session back in The Clocktower.

"Man, you should've seen her!" exclaimed Helena to Barbara. "Kid worked him over!"

"That would explain the scream", replied Barbara dryly. She was eyeing the silver cylinder that Dinah had snatched from The Director.

"Kid", said Helena to Dinah. "I never knew you had it in you! That took guts." Dinah flashed a sheepish grin.

"Judging from what Dinah has told us about this device's performance", said Barbara. "I would say that it has a … hypnotic … effect." She set the cylinder down upon her computer desk. "I'll have to dissect it later."

"There's still something I don't understand", said Dinah. "They wanted me to kill lab rats with my mind…"

Barbara suddenly froze. Her face became a mask of horror. _Oh no, _she thought. _God, no._

"Barbara?" asked Dinah. "Is there something wrong? Why did they want me to kill the rats?"

Barbara regained her composure and let out a breath. "It's a … desensitization procedure," she said to Dinah, struggling with the words. "Standard government practice."

"A desensitization procedure? What did they need to desensitize me for?"

Barbara cast her eyes downwards, drummed her fingers once on the desk, and licked her lips. "It usually goes something like this…" she said, looking up at Dinah. "First rats … then cats … then dogs … then pigs … then finally…" She struggled to get the word out. "…People."

All the blood drained from Dinah's face. Helena's jaw dropped. "They wanted me to be an _ASSASSIN?_" exclaimed Dinah.

"It would seem so, yes", said Barbara. "The Russians have been trying to create psychic assassins since the 60's. They have the potential to wield an untraceable weapon … and commit the perfect murder. Apparently, this is the government's attempt to … bridge a gap."

"I'm glad _THAT'S _over with", said Dinah, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Yeah", said Helena. "I guess they'll think twice now about coming after _you_", she said with a grin.

"Yeah … it's over", said Barbara quietly.

THE END


End file.
